


Received

by nutalexfanfic



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Masturbation, tw: death, tw: depression, tw: inferred suicide, tw:anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 14:57:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6990070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nutalexfanfic/pseuds/nutalexfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa can't stop texting her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Received

_[7:06am] i dreamed of you last night. you looked beautiful. i miss you so much._

//

 

Before her eyes open, her arm drifts over to the empty side of the bed. It’s empty, but it’s habit. Her fingers run along the pillow. The indention of it’s owner long gone. It’s still soothing somehow. Or maybe it’s just routine.

 

Her legs swing over the side of the bed, feet unfeeling the cold of the hardwood as they meet. She twists, her spine cracking a good three or four times. She rarely sleeps well anymore, tossing and turning kinks into her back. She has coffee and breakfast made minutes later. Coffee black, eggs scrambled, grapefruit cut in halves, same as yesterday. Same as the day before. The repetition is good. Distracting.

 

At work, her colleagues nod at her, eyes avoiding, smiles never quite reaching. She holes up in her office at the end of the hall. The one with the windows and the view. She watches the cars and people move below her like ants. Wonders what they’re thinking. What they’re feeling. Her phone buzzes and her breath catches. Probably an email. She tosses it in the desk of her drawer and closes it.

 

She gets one visitor that day. Anya. She brings her the financial reports for the last month. “They haven’t been crunched yet,” her CFO says. Lexa waves her off. “Just leave them, I’ll do it.” She likes numbers. Numbers are good. Safe. They don’t lie. They don’t leave.

 

She’s there til 9, long after the office has cleared out. The front desk man is still there when her heels click through the lobby. Click, click, click, her fingers tap against the black phone screen in her hands in time with her feet.

 

“Have a nice night, Ms. Woods.”

 

“Good night, Alfred.”

 

There’s a brown, paper bag waiting at her door when she walks up. A note is attached.

_Anya said you were working late. Take it easy on yourself, Lex. Here’s some dinner. Call soon, ok? –Linc_

By the time she sits down at the kitchen island with the noodles on the plate, her blazer shrugged off on the floor, the food is cold. She chews monotonously, not really tasting. She’s separated the peas from the carrots from the onions from the sprouts by the time she looks down. Four neat piles.

 

//

 

_[11:03pm] our family thinks im not eating. lincoln left noodles. u were the one who liked noodles. do you still?_

Lexa laughs sardonically and clears the dishes.

 

//

 

_[4:03am] i can’t sleep. everything aches. like growing pains that originate in your chest and travel in your blood. do u know what that’s like? the constant pain?_

_[4:37am] why did you do this to us?! i hate you. i hate you so fucking much!_

 

The words blur under her tears and she slams the phone onto the bedside table. When does this get easier? Perhaps it doesn’t.

 

She’s on the edge of sleep when she jerks awake and frantically grabs for her phone.

 

_[5:03am] i don’t hate you baby. im so sorry. i love you. so much. forever and always._

 

//

 

“I think you should talk to someone, Lex. It’s normal to need help.”

 

“I don’t need help. I need to get back to work and so do you.”

 

Anya leaves her office with a sigh.

 

//

 

Lincoln finds her with blood on her fists. The same blood that’s on the wall. He takes the bottle of gin out of her undamaged hand and carries her to his car.

 

She wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, eyes stinging, hand aching. Her head is spinning when she dives to her purse looking for her phone.

 

Seconds later she’s running down the stairs. It only takes a moment for Lincoln to realize what she needs. He hands her a charger and points to an outlet.

 

She overhears him on the phone with Anya and sinks down the wall, phone clutched to her chest.

 

_[1:15pm] they think i’ve lost it. they don’t understand. you understand, don’t you?_

_[2:45pm] of course you don’t. you did this to us._

 

//

 

“I don’t know what to say.”

 

“Why don’t you tell me what brought you in today?” An older woman with a soft smile and crinkly eyes stares at her over square glasses.

 

“Can I be frank?”

 

“Please.”

 

Lexa stares at the green pillows and bookshelves around her. “My family gave me an ultimatum.”

 

“What was the ultimatum?”

 

Lexa clenches her jaw. “Get help or they take my phone.”

 

“Your phone?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why your phone?”

 

Lexa shifts on the hard, white futon. “It’s complicated.”

 

Dr. Graham nods. “Ok.”

 

“Ok.”

 

“Well, how about we talk about your job? What do you do?

 

“I run a manufacturing company.”

 

“Run one?”

 

Lexa nods. “I founded it.”

 

The woman smiles. “That’s impressive. You seem very young to be the owner of a company.”

 

“I’m not that young.”

 

“Twenty-eight and running a company. It’s an impressive feat, Lexa. Take pride in your accomplishments.”

 

“Ok.”

 

//

 

Their second session goes short. Lexa tells her about the phone. Dr. Graham thinks maybe it’s time to move on. Lexa doesn’t look back when she walks out.

 

//

 

She thinks she’s suffocating when she sees the curly hair and brown eyes at the coffee shop. The barista calls her order, but she never picks it up. She’s frozen at her table until she’s not.

 

When she gets home, she’s shaking. Her fingers can barely tap.

 

_[3:05pm] i saw you today. i fucking saw you. god this hurts. i feel like im choking on everything without you here. you taught me how to breathe and then u just…left. i would never do that to someone._

_[1:03am] i know it wasn’t ur fault. im sorry, i didn’t mean that._

 

 

// //

 

 

Clarke knows she should stop. It’s obviously incredibly painful. Personal. But she can’t tear her eyes away. Her friends don’t understand. They think she’s met someone until she assures them she hasn’t. They tell her to ignore them. It’s a wrong number. But how can she ignore such pain?

 

//

 

She doesn’t get much sleep anymore. The texts usually come late in the middle of the night. She waits for them. Waits to see if they’re any better. Any happier. Waits to make sure they come at all. That the person is still ok. Still fighting.

 

//

 

“It upsets you.”

 

“No it doesn’t.”

  
Raven frowns. “I’m worried.”

 

“Stop worrying, Rae. I’m fine.”

 

“You’re exhausted.”

 

Clarke picks her head up off the counter feeling caught.  “I have a lot of work.”

 

“You haven’t painted in months.”

 

“Sure I have.” It’s a lie. They both know it. To Raven’s credit, she lets it go.

 

 

// //

 

 

_[2:33am] im drnk. i swih u wre here. i dnt wdnt anuone elsde. plse cone home._

 

//

 

Lexa wakes up with a pounding in her head that accompanies her through her entire work day. Anya sends her home at lunch and brings dinner when she gets off.

 

Lexa asks her to stay. She holds her throughout the night, whispering assurances into her ear Lexa cries herself to sleep.

 

//

 

_[3:07pm] the sky is gorgeous today. the brightest blue you can think of. like the eyes of a newborn. or the color of an ice cream cone in an ad from the 50’s. u know the color im talking about? so bright. so vivid. it’s so beautiful, love._

 

 

// //

 

Clarke smiles. When Raven asks her who she’s talking to her, she shrugs and keeps scrolling.

 

 

//

 

“I don’t like it,” Octavia hisses.

 

“Well neither do I, but it’s not our place.”

 

“Just tell her it’s for the best.”

 

“O,” Raven sighs, “we have to let her figure this out.”

 

Clarke leans against the closed door, her forehead pressed to it, hands bracing herself. She doesn’t know she’s crying until she hears the plop of a tear drop on her shoe.

 

 

// //

 

 

The tile is cold under Lexa’s feet as she stumbles into the shower, her hands reaching blindly for the hot water handle. It scalds her back, searing angry red patters of water into her skin.

 

She braces herself against the wall with the one hand while the other snakes between her legs. She can see her. Brown curly hair, wide brown eyes. Feels her touch on chest, her lips on her face, kissing away the tears that feel slightly cool compared to the hot water.

 

She works herself up, two fingers deep inside herself, pumping. She’s almost there, keening, reaching, desperate.

 

She can’t get there. She slams her hands against the wall, crying out but not in pleasure. She falls to her hands and knees and heaves, sobs wracking her body.

 

The sheets feel cold around her damp skin. She shivers against the air conditioning, knees pulled to her chest, trembling hands clutching her phone. She can’t see the picture she has pulled up anymore. Her tears are thick and relentless. She coughs through the sobs. Whimpering. Pathetic. She throws her phone.

 

The subsequent panic that swells in her dissipates when she runs over to it and sees that it’s unharmed.

 

 

// //

 

 

Clarke doesn’t get a text for a week. She has her first panic attack in two years, but Raven is home and talks her down. It’s an old feeling. Familiar. Not entirely hated because it’s more real than the rest of her feels. The shivering, the panting, the darkness closing in from the sides and the clutching around her heart. It paralyzes her, but she feels it. She _feels_ it.

 

//

 

Clarke lurches when she wakes up to the text in the middle of the night. “No…no, no, no, no,” she pants, her fingers shaking above the screen. What does she do? What does she say? Anything? What if it’s too late? She presses her head to her knees and trembles. Shoulders up to her ears, back hunched.

 

A second text wakes her from her daze with a jerk. She dives for her phone, heart pounding painfully against her chest.

 

 

// //

 

_[1:15am] i don’t want to do this anymore. it’s too hard. i think i’m done._

_[2:03am] goodbye my love._

 

// //

 

 

She can’t stop herself. Her fingers fly and hits send before she’s fully aware of what’s happened.

 

 

// //

 

Lexa yelps when her phone buzzes. She wants to throw up, wants to cry, wants to scream and rage and crumple. She throws the phone against the wall and flinches when she hears plastic upon plaster.

 

She trembles and pleads as she sits on her knees with the broken back and dislodged battery in her hands. “Please, please, please, don’t be broken. Don’t be broken.” She gets the battery back in and manages to get it powered on with a relieved whimper.

 

She reads the text over and over again until her eyes burn and she has to close them.

 

_[2:04am] please…im here. please don’t go. i don’t want you to go._

 

 

// //

 

 

Clarke’s third panic attack of the week sends her to the hospital. Her mom has to remind her of her self-soothing techniques three times before she lets her leave.

 

When she thinks Clarke can’t hear her, she asks Raven to stay with her for a few days. Raven says she already has a suitcase packed.

 

Clarke finds herself counting to ten with her breath held, over and over again on the ride home, her fingers tapping out each number against her phone.

 

“Maybe you should let me hold onto that,” Raven offers from the driver’s seat.

 

Clarke pulls it tighter to her and leans her head against the window.

 

One. Two. Three…

 

//

 

“You haven’t been this bad in years, Clarke! You have to do something about it!”

 

“I don’t have to do anything, Octavia!” She screams. It feels good, this release. When she sees tears in her best friend’s eyes, she storms out of the apartment and goes for a drive.

 

She’s not sure how she ends up at the AT&T store, but then there’s a person in an orange shirt asking her what she’d like her new number to be.

 

She bolts.

 

Her car idles in the parking lot of a McDonalds while she licks at an ice cream cone and counts to ten.

 

She returns to the AT&T store twice to make sure her number was not actually changed. They assure her it wasn’t.

 

 

// //

 

 

“You had no right! NO FUCKING RIGHT!” Lexa screams through her tears, pacing with her hands on her head. “How could you do this to me, Anya?! You’re my sister!”

 

Anya takes a step towards her. “It was for your own good, Lexa. Please. Trust me. You need to—“

 

“GET OUT!”

 

Lexa crumbles to her knees in the middle of her now half-empty bedroom and doesn’t hear the door slam behind her. She runs a finger across the cleared-off bedside table and presses her head to the edge.

 

“I’m so sorry,” she mutters. “So, so sorry.”

 

//

 

When she wakes up the next morning, it scares her how much easier it is to open her eyes to the room. It’s lighter today. She inhales slowly and releases in shaky exploration. It’s easier, the air in and out of her lungs.

 

She opens her phone and reads the text. “Good morning,” she whispers.

 

 

// //

 

 

Clarke has a panic attack at work when her phone dies around lunch time. Raven bring her charger an hour later without any questions. Clarke is thankful for that. She says so with her eyes and Raven leaves with a hug.

 

//

 

She’s on the couch watching a movie when her phone buzzes. She practically jumps out of her seat and rushes up the stairs to her room, leaving Raven, Octavia and Bellamy to exchange worried glances.

 

//

 

_[8:17pm] hello?_

_[8:18pm] r u there?_

 

 

// //

 

Clarke slams her hand over her mouth when she let’s out an expulsion of relieved laughter.

 

_[8:19pm] yes! im here!_

_[8:20pm] i thought you were gone._

 

 

// //

 

 

Lexa smiles. Her fingers shoot to her lips as if exploring the new sensation. She leans back into her pillow and pull the covers a little higher.

 

_[8:22pm] so did i._

 

 

// //

 

 

Clarke chuckles with tears pricking her eyes. She wipes them away with the back of her hand.  

 

_[8:23pm] what’s ur name?_

 

 

 // //

 

 

_[8:30pm] Lexa._

_[8:30pm] You?_

 

// //

 

 

_[8:31pm] i’m Clarke._

 

 

// //

 

 

Lexa pulls herself from the bed and walks into the kitchen. She pulls a mug from the cabinet and turns on her coffee machine.

 

_[8:38pm] hello Clarke._

 

 

// //

 

 

_[8:39pm] hi Lexa._

_[8:39pm] :)_

 

 

// //

 

Lexa stares at the screen, her cheeks wet. “Hi, Clarke,” she mutters. The name feels good on her tongue.

 

 

// //

 

 

_[8:42pm] Can i ask u something?_

 

 

// //

 

 

[8:50pm] yes.

 

 

// //

 

 

Clarke hesitates, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She closes her eyes and hits send.

 

_[8:55pm] who had this number before me?_

 

 

// //

 

 

Lexa sips her coffee before it cools, enjoying the way it burns the back of her throat. Distracting, she thinks.

 

Her jaw flexes and releases, heart thudding steady, but quick.

 

_[9:06pm] my fiance._

 

 

// //

 

 

Clarke’s not sure what flips in her stomach at the words, but it’s there and she can’t swallow it away. 

 

_[9:07pm] did he…?_

 

 

// //

 

 

_[9:08pm] ?_

 

 

// //

 

 

_[9:10pm] leave you?_

 

 

// //

 

Lexa sighs, warm mug pressed to her forehead. She focuses on her breathing, then plunges.

 

_[9:12pm] she died._

_[9:13pm] car wreck._

 

 

// //

 

 

Clarke’s scar begins to itch. She runs her nails along her chest and peers down at it. It’s pale now. Almost unnoticeable from collarbone to sternum after three years of healing.

 

She can still hear her mother’s voice in her ear as she came out of the anesthetic.

 

_“A new heart, babygirl. A second chance.”_

She closes her eyes and lets her head fall back onto the headboard.

 

 

// //

 

 

_[9:24pm] you still there?_

 

 

// //

 

 

_[9:24pm] yes._

_[9:25pm] just thinking._

_[9:25pm] im so sorry about your fiancé._

 

 

// //

 

 

_[9:26pm] thank you._

_[9:28pm] she was an organ donor. i like to think she lives on in someone._

_[9:28pm] a little part of her somewhere out there in the world._

 

 

// //

 

 

_[9:30pm] im sure she does._

_[9:33pm] im a donor recipient actually_

 

 

// //

 

 

_[9:34pm] oh?_

 

 

// //

 

 

_[9:35pm] mhm._

 

 

// //

 

 

_[9:37pm] what did you get?_

 

 

// //

 

 

Clarke smiles, her fingers still tracing her scar.

 

_[9:38pm] a new heart_

_[9:39pm] i had progressive eisenmenger syndrome._

 

 

// //

 

 

_[9:40pm] what’s that?_

 

 

// //

 

 

_[9:41pm] had a big ‘ol hole in my heart._

 

 

// //

 

 

She’s not sure why, but Lexa’s stomach flips when she reads it.

 

_[9:42pm] but you’re ok now?_

_[9:42pm] right?_

 

// //

 

 

_[9:43pm] yes. strong and healthy._

_[9:44pm] i can run now! :)_

_[9:44pm] first time in 14 years. i used to want to be the fastest girl in 3rd grade lol._

 

 

// //

 

 

Lexa chuckles and lets out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding as she pads over to her couch, wrapping herself in a blanket, mug in one hand, phone in the other.

 

_[9:46pm] that’s wonderful, Clarke._

 

 

// //

 

 

_[9:47pm] do you like to run?_

 

 

// //

 

 

_Lexa swallows hard. She used to. She found out on a run. She wraps the blanket a little tighter and sinks into the cushion._

_[9:49pm] i once did_

 

 

// //

 

 

_[9:50pm] maybe you will again?_

_[9:51pm] i love it. the way my lungs burn. the air on my face. my heart pumping, each contraction propelling me forward. it’s nice to forget on runs._

 

// //

 

 

Lexa rubs at her eyes.

 

_[9:52pm] hey Clarke?_

 

 

// //

 

 

_[9:53pm] yes Lexa?_

 

 

// //

 

 

_[9:54pm] im really glad you got a new heart._

_[9:55pm] im glad you’re alive._

 

 

// //

 

 

_[9:56pm] me too_

_[9:57pm] hey Lexa?_

 

 

// //

 

 

Lexa smiles.

 

_[9:58pm] yes Clarke?_

 

// //

 

 

_[10:03pm] when did she pass?_

 

// //

 

 

_[10:10pm] about three years ago._

 

 

// //

 

 

Clarke let’s her head fall to her desk, shoulders shaking. Her tears blur the words of the wrinkled newspaper cutout beneath her.

 

_On September 15, 2018 Costia Green was taken off life support at the request of her family and declared deceased by Dr. Marcus Kane at Memorial General. Ms. Forrest’s was an organ donor and helped save the lives of four people. She is survived by her mother, Indra Forrests and her fiancé, Alexandria Woods. The family asks that you respect their wish for privacy in their time of mourning._

// //

 

 

_[10:27pm] Clarke?_

 

//

 

 

_[10:40pm] did you fall asleep?_

 

//  


 

Lexa bites her lower lip to keep it from trembling. She turns on the TV, but doesn’t watch it. She likes the noise. The distraction.

 

_[10:46pm] perhaps i will talk to you later, then. have a good night, Clarke._

 

 

// //

 

 

Clarke stares at her phone, her cheek still pressed into the damn newspaper clipping. “I’m sorry,” she whimpers. “I’m so sorry.”

 

Her chest stings, angry red welts slashed across it like tic-tac-toe.

 

Her phone pings a third time and she shoots up, her breath quickening, throat tightening. Her head spins and she dives for her phone on the desk.

 

_[10:46pm] no im here! im here._

 

 

// //

 

 

_[10:47pm] are you ok?_

 

 

// //

 

 

_[10:48pm] yes_

_[10:50pm] no_

 

 

// //

 

 

Lexa sits up and runs a hand through her hair. It’s damp. No, her hand is. She looks at it, then wipes at her cheeks.  She sucks in a congested breath, and empties her lungs.

 

_[10:51pm] that’s ok._

_[10:52pm] neither am i._

 

 

// //

 

 

Clarke shuts off the lights and crawls into bed after calling down to her friends. They bid her goodnight, but she never hears the front door open and close. She figures she’ll find them on the couch in the morning. Ever watchful. Ever present. Ever worried.  

 

_[10:55pm] i want to be._

 

 

// //

 

 

_[10:56pm] so do i._

// //

 

 

_[10:58pm] can i tell you something?_

 

 

// //

 

 

_[10:59pm] anything, Clarke._

 

 

// //

 

 

_[11:03pm] you make it a little better._

 

 

// //

 

 

Lexa smiles and takes herself up to her room. She stares at the left side of the bed, unchanged, but somehow easier. She closes her eyes against the hint of guilt that begins to bubble in her stomach.

 

 _“You deserve to be happy, Lexa.”_  She blinks against Anya’s words, wrapping her arms around stomach as she doubles over and collapses.

 

She exhausts herself with her sobs, until finally she finds her breath again in short sniffles, back pressed to her closed door, head drooping on her knees. She picks her phone up from the ground and unlocks it.

 

_[11:13pm] so do you_

 

 

// //

 

 

_[11:14pm] are you tired?_

 

// //

 

 

Lexa slips into bed and shimmies out of her shirt and pants. She lays there, the sheets soft against her warm shin. She places a hand behind her head and scratches at the nape of her neck, soothing herself. She closes her eyes and lets the length of the day seep into her bones, pulling her down.

_[11:20pm] a little. you?_

 

 

// //

 

 

_[11:23pm] im falling asleep._

 

 

// //

 

 

Lexa smiles and tries to picture what the girl may look like, sleepy and curled up in bed.

 

_[11:24pm] go to sleep, Clarke. Ill be here if you need me._

 

 

// //

 

 

_[11:26pm] can i text you tomorrow?_

 

 

// //

 

 

_[11:29pm] yes._

 

 

// //

 

 

Clarke smiles and feels her heart flutter as her eyes droop.

 

_[11:30pm] goodnight, Lexa. sleep well. :)_

 

 

// //

 

Lexa turns to her side, flicks off the bedside lamp and cradles her phone between her hands.

 

_[11:32pm] goodnight, Clarke._

 

“Sweet dreams,” she sighs. She places the phone on the table and nuzzles into her pillow. She’s asleep in minutes.

 

 

// //

 

 

_[7:03am] good morning, Lexa._

 

 

// //

 

 

_[7:04am] good morning, Clarke. how did you sleep?_

 

 

// //

 

 

_[7:05am] slept through the night. so…pretty great._

 

 

// //

 

 

Lexa smiles and swings her legs out of bed. She hisses when her feet hit the cold ground and immediately retracts them. She sits cross-legged on her bed and twists. She gets one good crack.

 

 

_[7:06pm] me too._

 

// //

 

 

Clarke stares at the news clipping on her desk before tacking it up on the corkboard. “Thank you, Costia,” she murmurs, a hand over her heart.

 

 

// //

 

Lexa rubs her thumb across Costia’s name at the top of her screen. She sees the dots blinking beneath her text and she feels something new. Something light. Her stomach flutters. “Thank you, Cos.”

 

She opens the fridge and pulls out the milk. She sits down with a bowl of cereal moments later, and smiles at her phone.


End file.
